


Wake Up Calls

by sardonicsmiley



Series: The Branding 'Verse [6]
Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Kink, M/M, Sex Toys, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-07-27
Updated: 2008-07-27
Packaged: 2021-01-04 23:01:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21205511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sardonicsmiley/pseuds/sardonicsmiley
Summary: Rodney's beginning to think that John spent the entire time he was walking around with blue balls coming up with increasingly elaborate, filthy fantasies.





	Wake Up Calls

**Author's Note:**

> So, gnome781 saved my fics the other day. And in return, I have written some de-ageified!Rodney with his harem porning, just in time for Sunday Morning Smut (which should be a thing).
> 
> Beta: mgbutterfly, everything I want to put here is so dirty this morning, bb.

Rodney's beginning to think that John spent the entire time he was walking around with blue balls coming up with increasingly elaborate, filthy fantasies. That's not exactly a bad thing. Especially since John seems intent upon acting them all out now that he's getting laid. Ronon doesn't seem to mind, and while Rodney has things that he won't do, so far they haven't come anywhere close to his issues. 

Besides, both Ronon and John are very good about asking before they try anything new. 

In any case, it's not exactly a surprise when Rodney wakes up to the feel of two sets of warm, soft lips on his neck, followed by the rough brush of stubble. He's still groggy, mostly asleep, but he can feel the cool early-morning air all over his skin, tingling in the wake of wandering fingers. He can feel Ronon's big hand sliding over his ass, fingers moving back far enough to brush against Rodney's balls before the man curls his fingers around Rodney's thigh, pulling it to the side. 

Rodney moans into his pillow, managing to get his eyes open, feeling Ronon's answering rumble against his skin, just like he feels the curve of John's smile. They're on either side of him, warm and solid, John's fingers sliding down his spine, over his ass, curving around Rodney's other thigh and opening him up. 

Rodney is already hard, and he's not even all the way awake yet. 

"Me and Ronon were talking," John's voice is low and rough, so close as he kisses and licks his way up Rodney's throat. Both of them are rubbing their hands up and down the insides of Rodney's thighs, fingers rough with calluses leaving behind bursts of warmth, edging a little higher with each pass. 

When John makes no effort to elaborate, Rodney manages to rasp out, "Yeah? About what?" the words ending in a tight whine when Ronon strokes his thumb across the bottom curve of Rodney's ass. Rodney finds his hips tilting back towards the touch automatically. 

John nips at the lobe of Rodney's ear, and Rodney wonders distractedly what they'd do if he put the piercings back in, "You want to tell him, Ronon?" And John shifts his hand a little higher, knuckles just brushing Rodney's balls, a tease of heat and pressure. 

Ronon's voice is so deep, words spoken against the back of Rodney's neck, that Rodney thinks he can feel them all the way down his spine, "Go ahead." They're teasing each other, and him, voices happy even under the heavy layers of want. It makes Rodney grin against the side of his arm, even as he huffs impatiently. 

John makes a humming sound, sliding his hand up, over the curve of Rodney's hip, back in to settle broad and strong against the small of Rodney's back when he says, "Well, Ronon mentioned that when we fucked you last night, we didn't clean you up, so you're still all wet with our come." 

It might be the light, matter-of-fact tone. It might be the words. Rodney isn't sure, but he groans, grinding his erection down against the mattress. He manages to pant out, "God," and feels the warm brush of Ronon's laughter against the back of his neck, Ronon's hand sliding up, dragging one finger up over Rodney's hole, dragging it back, pressing just the tip into Rodney's body. 

Ronon licks across Rodney's skin before nosing up into his hair, rumbling, "Still so wet," and sliding his finger the rest of the way in. They both have to be able to feel the way Rodney trembles, panting hard now, rocking his hips restlessly. 

John groans, and Rodney can feel his fingers flex, can feel him fighting the urge to grab and touch long enough to say, "And we're both really hard, Rodney, from lying here, watching you sleep, all naked and relaxed and wet with our come. Ronon said that he wanted to fuck you, and I admit that's a good idea." 

John moves his hand now, down, and Rodney groans loud when he feels John slide a finger into him, right beside Ronon's. They scissor slowly, movements just lazy enough that each slide and crook has to be planned, deliberately engineered to have Rodney whimpering, barely able to make his brain focus enough to stutter through, "I sense, hm, I sense a but there somewhere." 

Honestly, Rodney's more surprised by John not making a bad joke there than anything else that's happened so far this morning. Pleasantly surprised. Instead, John slides his finger out, Ronon following suit a moment later, John sounding wrecked when he says, "But I thought it would be a better idea if we both fucked you, and then plugged your ass, kept our come in you all day." 

And okay, obviously John has a thing for toys. Rodney thinks that's another side effect of the not-getting-laid-for-years thing. Ronon had teased the other man about the toys, until John had whipped out the vibrator. After that, Ronon had been all for whatever. 

Now, Rodney can't help shouting, something hoarse and wordless. And they're both not touching him where he wants them to, Ronon rubbing his thigh again, John stroking his back. Rodney rasps, when he can think again, "Oh, fuck, what are you waiting for?" 

John nips at his ear again, and finally, finally, there are hands urging him up. Rodney feels shaky already, keeping his head down on his arms, getting his knees under his body. Rodney shivers at the feel of Ronon's big hands on his hips, shifting him into place, the feel of Ronon's big cock pressing up against him, hot and slick with pre-come. Ronon rumbles, "Lube, not gonna fuck him without any," and Rodney wishes they were face to face so he could kiss the other man, because Ronon, for all his gruffness and occasional roughness, is the gentlest lover Rodney's ever had.

There's the click of the lube opening, and Rodney gasps, panting, when Ronon slides two slick fingers into him. Rocking back into the pressure is all Rodney can do, feeling the kisses that John is dropping across his shoulders and down the line of his spine, as Ronon slides his fingers out, slicks himself up, pushes his cock into Rodney's body in one long stroke. 

Rodney feels it all the way up his back, in his cock, in the way his stomach tightens. He clenches his fingers in the pillow, mouth falling open. Ronon finds that strong, steady rhythm that he likes best, hard and deep, one hand holding onto Rodney's hip, the other sliding up his back, down his thigh, across his side, avoiding Rodney's cock. 

John is kissing up Rodney's neck again, his hand petting back through Rodney's hair, sliding down, around, fingers finding Rodney's nipple and lingering there. Between the two of them, Rodney can already feel himself coming apart, body already sore from the sex they'd had the previous night. He'd have been walking funny today anyway, with the plug there, constantly pressing, reminding, Rodney doesn't even know if he'll be able to sit. He groans, "Oh, fuck," meeting Ronon's thrusts, shuddering. 

He's not going to last. And then John has to start talking again, voice rough and thick, "You know why we want to plug you?" 

For a moment all Rodney thinks he's going to be able to do is shake his head, his skin slick and hot with sweat, nerves jerking and jumping, but then he finds his voice, "Cause 's fuckin' hot," Rodney knows. Part of the fascination people have with his ass is sticking all kinds of toys up it. He stopped asking why long ago. 

Ronon grunts, changing the angle of his thrusts, brushing against Rodney's prostate, and God, there goes his speech centers. Rodney barely feels anything else, anything but that. And John is raising his hand to his lips and licking his fingers before reaching for Rodney's nipple again, conceding, "That too. But Ronon's thought was that this way you'd be all wet. All day. If we need to fuck you, all we have to do is bend you over the nearest surface, take out the plug, and there, all wet and slick for us to take." 

And Rodney doesn't even have time to process the words before Ronon thrusts into him hard, big hand sliding around to wrap around Rodney's cock. It all slams together, too much for him to resist, and he comes so hard that the world goes black. 

When Rodney blinks, breathing hard, feeling so loose and shaky it's almost scary, Ronon is holding him in place, a thick, strong arm around his waist. Ronon is still hard inside him. Rodney is sure, now, that he can feel every ridge, every inch, hot and thick. 

And then Ronon buries his face against the curve of Rodney's neck, grinds his hips in a slow circle, and comes just like that. Rodney gasps, feeling it, every pulse, every twitch, and Ronon rumbles, just a wordless growl in the back of his throat. 

When Ronon slides out of him, Rodney shivers, going down to his stomach. Ronon flops down onto his back, covered with a sheen of sweat. Rodney almost closes his eyes, tired and sated, but then John is shifting, covering Rodney's back for a long moment, strong and heavy and warm, cock pressed against the curve of Rodney's ass. 

John shifts back after a long moment, breathing hard, pulling Rodney's hips up far enough to shove a pillow under them. Rodney moans, anticipation and want making him spread his thighs, tilting his ass back, body reacting even with his brain still mostly offline. 

John groans, "Jesus, look at you," running both hands up over the curve of Rodney's ass, opening him up and just looking for so long that Rodney squirms. And then John laughs, breathless, almost covering over the sound of the lube opening again. 

When John finally slides into Rodney, they both groan, Rodney's cock twitching, hardening again against his stomach. John's weight over him feels good, John's cock inside him even better, and when John picks up a rhythm, it's best. 

Rodney meets each thrust as best he can, pinned to the bed and fucked out already. John groans with each stroke, already moving desperately, like he's struggling not to just let go. And then John is thrusting even harder, his voice catching and ragged, "God, Rodney, I wish everyone knew, I wish everyone knew—"

John keeps up the litany with each thrust, and Rodney thinks that explains a lot, really. He wishes he could offer some comfort, but all he can do is squirm around John's cock. Ronon is there, though, and Rodney can hear his deeper voice, shushing John, can just see Ronon out of the corner of his eye, shifted up and rubbing at John's back as John finally groans loud and rough, coming inside Rodney, sagging down on top of him. 

For a long moment they lay like that, John breathing raggedly, and then he's shifting, sliding out and pulling himself across the bed to dig around through the dresser drawer. A half second later he's tossing the toy to Ronon, and Rodney groans, still hard, grinding down against the mattress and waiting. 

Ronon's hands are big and warm, holding him open, and then sliding the plug in. Rodney shivers around it, getting used to the feel of it before rolling himself onto his back and demanding, brain still not quite working, "Someone get me off." 

One of them laughs, and then there's Ronon's wet, hot mouth around his cock, John cupping his balls, and Rodney arches his back and comes, shivering at the feel of the plug inside him, John's words still playing over and over in his head. He thinks he could have gotten hard again, if the bedside alarm hadn't gone off then.

* * *


End file.
